


Admiration

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:24:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carth gets an unexpected visit. <br/>Essentially just porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Admiration

**Author's Note:**

> Unfinished and crappy. Sorry about that.

She’s like a tornado when she fights, the glowing blades of her lightsaber decimating everyone around her. Every opponent she fights goes down, with burn wounds as a testament to exactly what happened. You can’t help but watch her when she fights. Wanting to help her in some more significant way than firing blasters.  
When you see her standing, barely out of breath, with corpses around her, you understand what the Mandalores mean when they talk about battle glory.  
And when she looks back at you, you’ll think you can see the flicker of a smile at the edges of her mouth.  
All your senses scream danger when you talk to her; she reminds you too much of someone else you used to have these conversations with. Your trust isn’t easy to earn, but when she’s saved you and saved you again- well, you have to admit there’s something there worth believing in.  
Sometimes you catch an expression on her face, something as enigmatic as the alien languages she can howl, click and grunt as easily as speaking Basic. The look on her face sometimes reminds you of the way an apprentice might look at her master, that look of guarded admiration- as if there’s something worth respecting in you.  
You remember the way she was when she woke up the first time, when the two of you had crash-landed in an escape pod. How she’d seemed so surprised to wake up somewhere comfortable, safe. You’d been cleaning your blaster and nearly dropped it when she sat up; her eyes flew open, immediately finding you as the only other person in the tiny room.  
Her injuries, you’d noticed, with a professional eye, weren’t quite healed; she’d suffered a nasty wound to her abdomen in the crash as well as various gashes, scrapes and bruises. You’d used strips of cloth to bind some of it up.   
When the two of you crashed, you had to throw her weight over your shoulder and run for it, into a seedy apartment complex that the two of you could squat in- she’d been banged up badly enough that no other thought crossed your mind besides fixing her. With no embarrassment at all, you’d stripped her to her undergarments and begun analysis, looking for broken bones or internal bleeding.  
Now, sitting awake on your cot late at night and trying not to think about her a single room away- perhaps meditating, or pacing restlessly through the small space- now, things are different.  
A knock on your door, the sound echoing through the sheet of metal and into your room. You get up and open it- there she is, wearing not Jedi robes but regular clothing; the white T- shirt and dark, baggy pants seem to emphasize how small she is. You forget, sometimes, that she’s shorter than you. The way she carries herself makes her look about six feet tall.  
She looks up at you, her narrow eyes boring into yours.  
“Carth,” she says, speaking quietly- the rest of your companions are in their rooms, asleep. “Can I talk to you?”   
You nod and move aside so she can come in. She looks around your room; you wonder what she finds in the neat, bare walls, in the crisply made bed. She perches herself on the end of it without asking, leaving her slippers on the floor and tucking her feet under her legs in a meditative pose.   
“What did you want to talk about?” You get to the point quickly. Something about the way she looks so at home here unsettles you.   
“Something isn’t right,” she says quietly- you aren’t sure if she is addressing you, or if she’s retreated inside herself. “The Code speaks of serenity, but…” She looks up, her gaze locking on you again. “You know, I haven’t a clue how a Jedi should deal with this.”  
“With what?” You’re used to the Jedi talking in circles, and you know by now there isn’t any easy way to get through to them- to get through to her. Instead of responding, she stands up, walking barefoot across the room until she’s literally toe to toe with you, those laser focused eyes searching you to the point of indecency. With years of Republic army training behind you, you meet her glare.  
“I think,” she says, again speaking to herself, “that this is the wrong way entirely.” A smile flits across her face before she’s all business again. “Open your mouth,” she tells you.  
“Revan, what-“  
“Open your mouth.”  
Tentatively, unsure of what she’s planning, you do.   
In a fluid motion almost too fast to see, she yanks on the collar of your Republic uniform, pulling you down to her level, and forces her tongue into your mouth, kissing you savagely, messily. Something inside you snaps, that barrier of honor and decency falling away entirely. You cup your hands around the backs of her thighs and lift her up, so her legs wrap around you. She rests her hands on your shoulders and breaks the kiss, smirking at you. You don’t let her say anything, instead swinging her onto the bed and depositing her there so she lies below you.  
With swift, capable hands she unzips the Republic army issue jacket, pushing it impatiently off your shoulders. You sit up slightly, straddling her, and pull the jacket off entirely, letting it fall to the ground beside her slippers. She trails fingers down your chest, across your scars before grabbing onto your shoulders to pull herself up under you. You lift her T-shirt over her head and she helps you get it off. Revan’s hands reach around your back and she pulls you into a kiss again, while you unclasp her bra. The straps slip off when she lies back down, and you push the bra away. You brush a thumb across her nipple, eliciting a moan. You put a hand over her mouth.  
“We have to be quiet,” you warn her. “Bastila is right next door and, aah…“ You’re distracted by Revan licking each of your fingers individually, separating them to suck all the way down the digit. With your right hand you continue to work over her breasts, playing with her nipples. She’s almost too skinny, her ribs sticking out from a wartime diet. Her skin is soft on your callused fingers. She lets go of your other hand and you set that one to work moving down her body, dragging across her stomach and into her pants, into her underwear. You rub two fingers across her sex and she moans again, biting her lip to hold it in. You pull the hand out, causing her to whimper with disappointment. You yank her pants down, letting them fall to the ground with her other clothing. Her panties quickly follow and in a moment you have a completely naked Revan lying below you, still biting her lip to stop herself from moaning. You shift position so you’re kneeling between her legs and push her knees apart. You lavish kisses up her left thigh, licking and sucking a trail up her leg and stopping just before her sex.  
“Please, Carth,” she begs, breathing hard.   
You oblige, hooking her legs over your shoulders. You lick up and down her clit and are rewarded with a shrill, yelping moan and a series of sounds- “Ah, don’t stop, yes, please!” Entering her with your tongue, you taste her wetness and hear her stifle a scream. “Carth, there!” Her legs tighten around you as she comes, whole body shaking in orgasm. When, finally, she relaxes, you set her legs down and sit up. You wipe your mouth, meeting her smirk with your own smile.


End file.
